5. Primal Instincts
Primal Instincts
~CARTER~
M y heart pounds against my ribs like a caged animal as I stride through Knot Academy's empty halls. Each beat seems to echo her name, a rhythm I can't shake no matter how hard I try.
Elizabeth. Elizabeth. Elizabeth.
Sweet, sexy Abbie…
I rake my fingers through my hair, trying to steady my breathing.
“You haven’t earned the right to call me that.”
I repeat those words again and again in my mind, begging to be worthy of her various standards. All in the name of calling her that.
A fascination in calling her the name her daddy calls her by? I’m fucking mad.
Yet, the idea of her acknowledging me as her Daddy makes my cock twitch and harden immensely.
Fuck.
The lingering taste of her on my lips isn't helping – sweet and potentially lethal, just like her scent. I feel like I’m losing my damn mind, and that’s never a good sign. Just thinking about it makes my cock throb painfully against the confines of these ridiculous uniform pants.
Get it together, Giovanni.
But how can I when my entire body is screaming to turn around, go back, and claim what every Alpha instinct is telling me belongs to me? My sinful addiction to an Omega is mine to claim.
I've never lost control like this. Never let an Omega affect me this way. We came here with a plan – find someone suitable, someone safe. Someone who could help us convince the administration we're reformed without complicating things.
Instead, I just kissed the most dangerous Omega in the entire academy.
And holy fuck, what a kiss.
The memory of her yanking me down, taking control like that...
Most Omegas would never dare. They're too caught up in their prescribed roles, too afraid of showing any hint of dominance. But Elizabeth?
She grabbed what she wanted with both hands.
Just like I want to grab and fuck her relentlessly.
"Focus," I mutter to myself, adjusting my tie in a futile attempt to ease the strangling sensation. It's not the tie's fault – it's the primal need coursing through my veins, making everything feel too tight, too constrained.
My Alpha pheromones are probably flooding the hallway, but I can't bring myself to care. Make all those Omega horny for some dick.
I’ll be satisfying myself with my defiant ballerina with a rebel touch.
The nurse's office isn't far, thankfully.
I need to get that first aid kit and treat those abused feet of hers. The sight of the damage had cut through my lust like a knife, replacing it with something equally threatening – the need to care for her, to protect.
That's not what we're here for.
I’m losing sight of our objective here, and the logic in the depths of my brain that isn’t following my dick is trying to remind me of that objective I vowed to maintain.
When I push open the door to the nurse's station, the reaction is immediate. Two middle-aged nurses practically trip over themselves to attend to me, their Beta pheromones spiking with interest. It’s always been a special trait of mine to easily tell the difference between Alpha, Omega, and Beta.
It’s become second nature for myself and others, which makes our lives easier in a few ways. In this case, I know how to navigate around these Betas to get exactly what I need without wasting too much time or effort.
"Can we help you?" the shorter one asks, batting her eyelashes. Her nametag reads 'Margaret,' but she looks more like a 'Desperate' to me.
I flash them my most charming smile, the one that's gotten me out of more trouble than I care to admit.
"Just need a first aid kit. For a...friend."
Friend my foot. I need to make that woman my everything.
They exchange knowing looks that make me want to roll my eyes. If this was a genre in those books Omegas love to read, it would probably be called "Middle-aged Betas and Their Young Alpha Fantasies."
"Of course," Margaret practically purrs, reaching under the counter. "We have several types. Is this for anything specific?"
Yeah, for the feet of the Omega, I want to knot until she can't walk.
My cock can’t possibly get any harder. I’m sure my bulge is on complete display right now, but I’m hoping these black pants will do better justice than the grey alternative.
So fucking glad I didn’t wear that ugly pair.
"Just the standard kit will do," I say instead, maintaining my polite smile. "Thank you, ladies."
They giggle – actually giggle – as they hand over a surprisingly well-stocked kit. I'm out the door before they can offer anything else.
Like their phone numbers or dignity.
The walk back to the locker room feels like it takes forever, each step a battle between my rational mind and my baser instincts. My body is reacting to the mere memory of her scent, my Alpha biology screaming at me to claim, to mark, to breed.
Part of me hopes she took my advice and left.
It would be safer that way, cleaner. We could write off that kiss as a moment of madness and I’d move on with our original plan.
But what if she didn't?
The thought sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
What if she's still there, waiting?
What if she's decided to challenge me?
To push back against my suggestion to run?
I bite my bottom lip hard enough to taste copper, trying to tame the surge of arousal that comes with that thought. An Omega who doesn't automatically submit, who meets fire with fire...It's more intoxicating than it should be.
It's also exactly what we don't need right now.
The Giovanni Empire is hanging by a thread. Their empires are no different.
Without us present now, anything can happen and be deemed fair game. All the years spent on building these foundations from the ground up can’t possibly be ruined by these diplomatic standards that are only being used as punishment against those taking “too long” to settle for the partner chosen to be stuck with us for the rest of our existence.
The government makes it seem so fucking easy. As if it’s not life-changing.
Felix, Holmes, and I need to play this smart, need to convince everyone we're reformed. Taking the most notorious Omega in Hard Knot Academy – the one they call the Forgotten One – would be like lighting a match in a room full of gunpowder.
Exactly my kind of explosion.
I'm outside the locker room door when it hits me – her scent stronger than before. This confirms that she not only didn’t take my advice, but she’s behind that door.
Waiting for my return…
The aroma taunting my nostrils is mixed with something new now, the soft notes of cherry blossom and lavender shampoo weaving through that intoxicating blend of sweetness and danger. But underneath it all is the unmistakable scent of aroused Omega – sweet, fertile, ready.
She's showering.
The groan escapes before I can stop it, my cock hardening instantly at the thought of hot water running down her tattooed skin.
Steam rising around her as she...
The base of my cock swells slightly, the beginning of a knot forming just from her scent alone.
Fuck.
My hands shake as I pull out my phone, hitting Felix's number before I can talk myself out of it. He picks up on the third ring, his voice sharp with irritation.
"What?"
"I need a favor," I say, trying to keep my voice steady as another wave of her scent hits me. I can hear the shower running now, the sound mixing with the pounding of my rapid pulse.
I need to be with her. To see her naked. To lay a thousand kisses across her flesh and sink my cock deep inside her hot pussy.
"I don't do favors," Felix replies flatly. "You know that."
I can't help but chuckle, the sound dark even to my own ears.
"It'll be more than a favor if you don't get your ass down here and find a way to put this girl’s locker room out of order."
There's a pause, then.
"Why?"
I lean my forehead against the cool metal of the door, letting her scent wash over me. My voice comes out as barely more than a whisper, tight with need.
"I think I just found our Omega."